Rebel, Pawn, King

by Morgan Rice

  Lucious clearly made sure that no one who had seen Stephania there survived. Even Stephania felt disgust at the callousness of it, although there was another part of her already working out what it meant for her in the context of everything else.

  “Sadly, it seems that one of your handmaids was caught up in the plot,” Lucious said. “Thanos seduced her, it seems.”

  Anger flashed through Stephania then. “They are my handmaidens!”

  It wasn’t just the thought of women who’d served her so loyally being hurt, though that was bad enough. It was the thought that Lucious would dare to harm someone who was so obviously hers. It wasn’t just the thought of one of one of those who served her being harmed, it was the insult of it!

  “And that was the point,” Lucious said. “Too many people had seen her about your errands. And when I offered the girl her life in exchange for everything she knew, she was most helpful.”

  Stephania looked away. “Why do all this, Lucious? You could have left me to go with Thanos.”

  “Thanos didn’t deserve you,” Lucious said. “He certainly didn’t deserve to be happy.”

  “And why did you cover up my role in it?” Stephania asked. “You could have stood back and watched me executed.”

  “I did think about it,” Lucious admitted. “Or at least, I thought about asking the king for you when we told him. But there was too much of a chance of him simply executing you out of hand, and we couldn’t have that.”

  Only Lucious would speak about something like that so openly, or thought that Stephania was just something he could ask his father for like some precious bauble. Just the thought of it made Stephania’s skin crawl.

  “But then it occurred to me,” Lucious said, “that I am enjoying the game between us far too much to do something like that. It isn’t the way I want you, anyway. I want you to be my equal, my partner. Truly mine.”

  Stephania stepped over to the balcony, as much for fresh air as anything. This close, Lucious’s scent was of expensive rose water and perfumes obviously designed to disguise the blood beneath from the rest of his day’s exertions.

  “What are you saying?” Stephania asked, although she already had a good idea of some of what Lucious would want from her. She’d made it her business to find out everything there was to know about the others at court, including Lucious’s appetites.

  Although maybe she hadn’t done such a good job of it. She hadn’t realized that Lucious had been worming his way into her network of informants and spies. She hadn’t learned about the things Thanos was doing either, until it had been too late.

  She couldn’t compare the two though. Lucious was utterly without morals or stopping points, actively seeking out new ways to hurt others. Thanos was strong and principled, loving and protective.

  But he’d been the one to leave her. He’d abandoned her, knowing what might happen afterwards.

  Lucious reached out for her hand, taking it in a grip that was gentler than anything he normally managed. Even so, Stephania had to fight the urge to cringe as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the inside of her wrist, right where the pulse throbbed.

  “Lucious,” Stephania said, pulling her hand away. “I’m a married woman.”

  “I’ve rarely found that to be a barrier,” Lucious pointed out. “And let’s be honest, Stephania, I doubt you have either.”

  Stephania’s anger flared up again then. “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know everything about you,” Lucious said. “And the more I see, the more I know that you and I are perfect for one another.”

  Stephania walked away, but Lucious followed. Of course he did. He wasn’t a man who had ever been denied.

  “Think about it, Stephania,” Lucious said. “I thought you were nothing but empty headed, but then I learned about the spider’s web you’ve woven in Delos. You know what I felt then?”

  “Anger that you’d been made a fool of?” Stephania suggested.

  “Careful,” Lucious said. “You wouldn’t want me angry with you. No, I felt admiration. Before, I thought you might be good to bed for a night or two. Afterwards, I thought you might be someone who truly understood how the world works.”

  Oh, Stephania understood, better than someone like Lucious could ever know. He had his position to protect him from whatever the world threw at him. Stephania had only her cleverness.

  “And you decided we would be the perfect match,” Stephania said. “Tell me then, what did you plan to do about my marriage to Thanos?”

  “These things can be put aside,” Lucious said, as if it were as simple as snapping his fingers. “After what he’s done, I would have thought you’d be happy to be free of that attachment.”

  There would be an advantage to having the priests do it, because otherwise Stephania risked being tarnished with Thanos’s crimes. She would always be the woman married to the traitor, even if Lucious had ensured that no one would ever be able to tie her to the crimes.

  “Or, if you don’t want that,” Lucious said, “I’m sure it won’t take much to ensure his demise. After all, you so nearly managed it before. Regardless of where he’s gone, another assassin could be arranged. You could mourn for a… suitable period. I’m sure black would suit you. You look so lovely in everything else.”

  There was something about Lucious’s look that made Stephania uncomfortable, as though he were trying to guess what she would look like without wearing anything at all. She looked him straight in the eyes, trying to keep her tone businesslike.

  “And then what?” she demanded.

  “And then you marry a more suitable prince,” Lucious said. “Think of all we could do together, with the things you know, and the things I can do. We could rule the Empire together, and the rebellion would never even touch us. You have to admit, we would make a lovely couple.”

  Stephania laughed then. She couldn’t help herself. “No, Lucious. We wouldn’t, because I don’t feel a thing for you beyond contempt. You’re a thug, and worse, you’re the reason I’ve lost everything. Why would I ever consider marrying you?”

  She watched Lucious’s face turn hard.

  “I could make you,” Lucious pointed out. “I could make you do whatever I want. Do you think I couldn’t still let your part in Thanos’s escape be known? Maybe I kept that handmaid of yours, for insurance.”

  “Trying to force me into marriage?” Stephania said. What kind of man would do that?

  Lucious spread his hands. “You’re not so unlike me, Stephania. You play the game. You wouldn’t want some fool coming to you with flowers and jewels. Besides, you’d learn to love me. Whether you wanted to or not.”

  He reached out for her again, and Stephania put her hand on his chest. “Touch me, and you won’t leave this room alive.”

  “Do you want me to reveal your part in helping Thanos escape?” he asked.

  “You forget your own part,” Stephania said. “After all, you knew all about it. How would the king react if I told him that?”

  She expected anger from Lucious then, maybe even violence. Instead, she saw him smile.

  “I knew you were perfect for me,” he said. “Even in your position, you find a way to fight back, and beautifully. Together, there will be nothing we can’t do. It will take you time to realize that though, I know that. You’ve been through a lot.”

  He sounded exactly the way a concerned suitor should, which only made Stephania trust him less.

  “Take the time to think about everything I’ve said,” Lucious said. “Think about everything a marriage to me could offer you. Certainly compared to being the woman who was married to a traitor. You might not love me yet, but people like us don’t make decisions based on that kind of foolishness. We make them because we are superior, and we recognize those like us when we see them.”

  Stephania was nothing like Lucious, but she knew better than to say it. She just wanted him to go.

  “In the meantime,” Lucious said when she didn’t answer, �
�I have a gift for you. That handmaiden of yours thought you might need it. She told me all kinds of things about you when she was begging for her life.”

  He drew a vial from his belt pouch, setting it down on the small table by the window.

  “She told me about the reason you had to run from the blood moon festival,” Lucious said. “About your pregnancy. Clearly, I could never bring up Thanos’s child. Drink this, and there will be no issue. In any sense.”

  Stephania wanted to fling the vial at him. She picked it up to do just that, but he was already out the door.

  She went to throw it anyway, but stopped herself, sitting back down at the window and staring at it.

  It was clear, the sunlight shining through it in a way that made it seem far more innocent than it was. Drink this, and she would be free to marry Lucious, which was a horrible thought. Yet it would put her in one of the most powerful positions in the Empire. Drink this, and the last remnant of Thanos would be gone.

  Stephania sat there, not knowing what to do, and slowly, the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

  Maybe she would drink it after all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ceres fought desperately up toward consciousness, pushing through the veils of blackness that pinned her down, like a drowning woman flailing up through water. Even now, she could hear the screams of the dying. The ambush. The battle. She had to force herself to wake, or it would all be lost….

  Her eyes snapped open, and she surged to her feet, ready to continue the fight. She tried to, anyway. Something caught at her wrists and ankles, holding her back. Sleep finally fled from her and Ceres saw where she was.

  Stone walls surrounded her, curving in a space barely large enough for Ceres to lie down in. There was no bed, just a hard stone floor. A small window set with bars let in light. Ceres could feel the restrictive weight of steel around her wrists and ankles, and she could see the heavy bracket where chains connected her to the wall, the thick door bound with iron bands that proclaimed her a prisoner. The chain disappeared through a slot in the door, suggesting that she could be pulled back from outside, right to the bracket, to pin her against the wall.

  Anger filled Ceres then at being caught there like that. She pulled at the bracket, trying to simply yank it from the wall with the strength her powers gave her. Nothing happened.

  It was as though there was a fog inside her head, and she was trying to look through it to the landscape beyond. Here and there, the light of memory seemed to break through that fog, but it was a fragmented thing.

  She could remember the gates to the city opening, the “rebels” waving them inside. Charging down there, throwing everything into what they’d thought would be the key battle for the city.

  Ceres slumped back. She hurt, and some wounds were deeper than just the physical ones.

  “Someone betrayed us,” Ceres said softly.

  They’d been on the verge of victory, and someone had betrayed all of that. Because of money, or fear, or the need for power, someone had given away everything they’d worked for, and left them riding into a trap.

  Ceres remembered then. She remembered the sight of Lord West’s nephew with an arrow sticking from his throat, the look of helplessness and disbelief that had crossed his face before he’d toppled from the saddle.

  She remembered arrows blotting out the sun, and barricades, and fire.

  Lord West’s men had tried to fire back at the archers assailing them. Ceres had seen their skills as horse archers on the ride to Delos, able to hunt with small bows and fire at a full gallop if they needed to. When they’d fired their first arrows in response, Ceres had even dared to feel hope, because it seemed as though these men would be able to overcome anything.

  They hadn’t. With Lucious’s archers hidden on the rooftops, they’d been at too much of a disadvantage. Somewhere in the chaos, fire pots had joined the arrows, and Ceres had felt the horror of it as she’d seen men start to burn. Only Lucious would have used fire as a weapon in his own city, not caring if the flames spread to the surrounding houses. Ceres had seen horses rearing, men thrown as their mounts panicked.

  Ceres should have been able to save them. She’d had reached for the power within her and found only emptiness, a bleak gap where there should have been ready strength and the power to destroy her foes.

  She’d still been searching for it when her horse had bucked, sending her tumbling…

  Ceres forced her mind back to the present, because there were some places her memory didn’t want to linger. The present wasn’t much better though, because outside, Ceres could hear the screams of a man who was obviously dying.

  Ceres made her way to the window, fighting her way to the very limits of what her chains would allow. Even that was an effort. She felt as though something had scoured her inside, wiping away any of the strength that she might have had. It felt as though she could barely stand then, let alone fight her way clear of the chains that held her.

  She managed to get there, wrapping her hands around the bars as if she might pull them out. In truth, though, they were almost the only thing holding her up right then. When she looked down at the courtyard that lay beyond her new cell, she needed that support.

  Ceres saw Lord West’s men there, standing in line after line of soldiers. Each still wore the remains of his armor, although in many cases pieces of it had been broken or torn from them, and none had their weapons. They had their hands bound, and many were kneeling. There was something sad about that sight. It spoke of their defeat more clearly than almost anything else could have.

  Ceres recognized others there, rebels, and the sight of those faces brought an even more visceral reaction. Lord West’s men had come with her willingly. They’d risked their lives for her, and Ceres felt responsibility for that, but the men and women below were ones she knew.

  She saw Anka. Anka was tied at the heart of it all, her arms strapped behind her to a post, high enough that she couldn’t possibly sit or kneel to rest. A rope at throat level threatened to start choking her every time she dared to relax. Ceres could see the blood on her face, left there casually, as if she didn’t matter at all.

  The sight of it all was enough to make Ceres feel sick. They were friends, people whom Ceres had known for years in some cases. Some of them were wounded. A flash of anger ran through Ceres at that, because no one was trying to help them. Instead, they knelt or stood, the same way the soldiers did.

  Then there was the sight of the things they were waiting by. Ceres didn’t know what many of them were for, but she could guess, based on the rest. There were impaling poles and blocks for beheading, gallows, and braziers with hot irons. And more. So much more that Ceres could barely begin to comprehend the mind that could decide to do all this.

  Then she saw Lucious there amongst them, and she knew. This was down to him, and in a way, down to her. If only she’d been quicker chasing him down when he’d issued his challenge. If only she’d found some way to kill him before this.

  Lucious stood over the soldier who was screaming, twisting a sword thrust through him to bring a fresh sound of agony from him. Ceres could see a small crowd of black-hooded torturers and executioners around him, looking on as though taking notes, or possibly just appreciating someone with a twisted flare for their profession. Ceres wished that she could reach out and kill all of them.

  Lucious looked up, and Ceres felt the moment when his eyes met hers. It was something akin to the kind of thing bards sang about, with lovers’ eyes meeting across a room, only here, there was only hatred. Right then, Ceres would have killed Lucious in any way she could, and she could see what he had in store for her.

  She saw his smile spread slowly across his features, and he gave the sword one final twist, his eyes still on Ceres, before he straightened up, wiping bloodied hands absently on a cloth. He stood there like an actor about to deliver a speech to a waiting audience. To Ceres, he simply looked like a butcher.

  “Every man and woman here is a t
raitor to the Empire,” Lucious declared. “But I think we all know that it is not your fault. You have been misled. Corrupted by others. Corrupted by one in particular.”

  Ceres saw him shoot another look in her direction.

  “So I am going to offer mercy to the ordinary ones among you. Crawl to me. Beg to be enslaved, and you will be permitted to live. The Empire always needs more drudges.”

  No one moved. Ceres didn’t know whether to be proud or to scream at them to take the offer. After all, they had to know what was coming.

  “No?” Lucious said, and there was a hint of surprise in his tone. Perhaps, Ceres thought, he genuinely had expected everyone there to willingly give themselves over into enslavement to save their lives. Perhaps he really didn’t understand what the rebellion was about, or that there were some things worse than death. “No one?”

  Ceres saw the pretense of calm control slip away from him then like a mask, revealing what lay beneath.

  “This is what happens when you fools start listening to scum who want to mislead you!” Lucious said. “You forget your places! You forget that there are consequences for everything you peasants do! Well, I’m going to remind you that there are consequences. You’re going to die, every last one of you, and you’re going to do it in ways that people will whisper about every time they so much as think of betraying their betters. And, to make sure of it, I’m going to bring your families here to watch. I’m going to burn them out of their pitiful hovels, and I’m going to make them pay attention while you scream!”

  He would do it, too; Ceres had no doubt of that. She saw him point at one of the soldiers, then at one of the devices that were waiting.

  “Start with this one. Start with any of them. I don’t care. Just make sure that they all suffer before they die.” He pointed a finger up toward Ceres’s cell. “And make sure that she’s last. Make her watch every last one of them die. I want her driven mad by it. I want her to understand just how helpless she really is, no matter how much of the blood of the Ancient Ones she boasts about to her men.”